


except what's real is all rehearsed

by lucianowriter



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mayor Johnny Rose, Mayor's Son David, Professional Baseball Player Patrick, Role Reversal AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22871062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucianowriter/pseuds/lucianowriter
Summary: "He'd fucked up yet another game for the team, his second in a row, by missing a catch and allowing three runs to get by for the Yankees. The flub had lost them the game. Patrick had been heckled off the field. He didn't blame them. He sucked. Big time. Patrick put his car in park in the parking garage of Trent's building and leaned his head on the wheel. God Patrick was tired. He needed a change."After a six-year career with the Toronto Blue Jays, Patrick was tired and ready for a break. So he gets in his car and drives toward anything that makes him feel alive again. He ends up in Schitt's Creek where he meets a handsome stranger with a great business idea. Could this stranger be the exact answer Patrick has been searching for?
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Patrick Brewer/Rachel, Rachel (Schitt's Creek)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 53





	1. then the smilin' starts to hurt

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with this idea a few months ago and presented it to Aelia_Goia. She loved the idea from the moment it left my lips. So for the next few months, she helped me to brainstorm and create this new world for our boys. I will always be grateful to her as my best friend, my sister for her unwavering belief and support in me as a writer. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy a bit of role reversal for David and Patrick. I hope that by the end of this fic you will have a satisfactory answer to the question: What if Patrick grew up surrounded by an excess of fame and fortune and what if David grew up in Schitt's Creek?
> 
> This work was inspired by Noah Reid's song: Tiff Song.

Patrick walked into the bedroom where he found Rachel doing her nightly skincare routine. She truly was a gorgeous woman without even trying. He could still say she was beautiful even though he's now realized the attraction just isn't there. It's his deepest secret, but he hopes that tonight will go the way he needs it to so he can finally tell another person. 

"Hey, Rach?" Patrick sat on the edge of the bed and fidgeted with his fingers.

Rachel paused in her movements, looking Patrick in the eye through her mirror. "What is it, babe?" There is a concern in her voice, but it's not deep enough to mean much to him.

"Do you remember when we first met?" Patrick glanced up at her through his lashes.

"Why does it matter? That's all in the past." Rachel turned back to her lotions.

"Just go with it." Patrick paused before adding, "please."

"Fine." Rachel turned completely around in a huff and responded. "It was junior year at University. I had been dragged to some baseball party by my roommate because her boyfriend was the pitcher. I was sitting in a corner reading a book on mathematical theory and you came over. I remember you smiled at me and then said I was the prettiest girl in the room.I remember being annoyed at you for interrupting my reading so I ignored you. Then you put your hand on my shoulder and asked me what I was reading." 

"What happened to us? I miss the people we were back then. Don't you?" Patrick tried to reach for Rachel but she pulled back.

"I don't have time for another one of your existential crises. We have an interview tomorrow." Rachel went back to what she'd previously been doing.

"Do you even hear yourself? You have a degree in Mathematics and Education. The world could be yours and yet your top priority is an interview with People magazine!" Patrick stood up and started to pace the room.

"Like you can say you're much different! You used to want an MBA and yet you spend each day hitting a ball with a chunk of metal." Rachel scoffed.

"I always swore I'd play baseball until it wasn't fun anymore, but I let myself veer away from that path and I'm not even sure why." Patrick stopped and ran his hands through his hair.

"So when did it stop being fun for you?"

"A year after I joined the Blue Jays," Patrick admitted in defeat.

"Your whole fucking career. Was any of this real?" Rachel was on her feet now.

"Would you hate me if I said I didn't know?" Patrick's body language pleaded with her to understand.

"Ok." Rachel took a few calming breaths. "We get some sleep and do the interview tomorrow. Then we can discuss your future."

"You'll have to do the interview alone. I'm not interested." Patrick knew that he'd never be happy in this anymore. Rachel still didn't get it and he desperately needed someone to understand.

"But, babe. This interview is about us." Rachel put on her pouty face that she used whenever she wanted something.

"Then you'll have to tell them why there isn't an us anymore." Patrick sighed and started to pack a bag.

"But I don't even know that!" 

"Tell them whatever you want. I honestly don't care anymore. I'm going to Trent's. You can stay here." Patrick is defeated and exhausted; a combination that he really didn't care for.

"You're really breaking up with me? Again?" Rachel is now crying, which Patrick really doesn't have the energy for.

"Yes. Only this time it's final. I'm sorry Rachel. I really am." Patrick leaned over and kisses her on the forehead before walking out of the apartment. 

As he drives over to Trent's apartment across town he thinks about it all. His whole life was spent being surrounded by baseball. That tends to happen when you are the son of Big Dog Clint Brewer of Blue Jays fame. Patrick grew up idolizing his father and wanting to be him. As a kid you think wouldn't it be great to get to play baseball all the time AND get paid to do it? Now, at 28 he realizes it's not that simple. He trains so hard that he's torn his shoulder twice in the past 18 months. If he had been a pitcher he'd be out of the game already. 

Unfortunately for him, the torn shoulder has yet to actually affect his throwing abilities. He just has to ice it almost nightly. He knows he has to get out if he's hoping an injury will sideline him. Why'd he have to be blessed with a strong body and natural talent? Sure the $3 million contract was nice and hero-worship from the kids a great morale boost, but neither of those things can make the ache of loneliness in his chest go away. Instead, the chasm just keeps getting bigger.

Trent was probably the only friend from his college days who cared about Patrick instead of the game. Which is why he insisted Trent be his sports agent once he'd been drafted by the Blue Jays. They'd been through it all together. Every messy break up with not just Rachel but every girl in between and every bad game. Trent had seen it all and had always encouraged Patrick to follow his heart even if that meant Trent would lose a client. Patrick appreciated that voice of reason whenever he had doubts that overpowered him. He trusted Trent to know when he should walk away. Tonight was one of those nights he needed that voice of reason.

He'd fucked up yet another game for the team, his second in a row, by missing a catch and allowing three runs to get by for the Yankees. The flub had lost them the game. Patrick had been heckled off the field. He didn't blame them. He sucked. Big time. Patrick put his car in park in the parking garage of Trent's building and leaned his head on the wheel. God Patrick was tired. He needed a change.

The minute he entered Trent’s apartment, Patrick knew he’d made the right decision. His friend was right there with a glass of whiskey and an open ear. Patrick slumped on the couch, not even sure where to begin with all the thoughts running through his head.

“So, you had a bad game. It happens. I don’t know why you always take every game so hard.” Trent decided to help his friend out and start the conversation.

“Because I am somebody. I’m not just some regular Joe off the street given the chance to play ball. According to everyone else, I’m the next coming of Christ or whatever. If Christ played baseball.” Patrick quickly ranted, but he knew it was pointless. It wasn’t the first time he’d questioned his part in the league.

“So, what can I say to you this time? Which magic words will get you out of this headspace, Brewer?” Trent grabs his now empty glass and refills it before handing it back to him.

“Do you know that after my mistake, I left the game thinking about that Yankee player who busted up his knee tonight sliding into home? I wished it had been me.” Patrick looked his friend in the eye for the first time.

“That’s fucked up, Turbo.” Trent whistled and leaned against his wall.

Patrick smiled at the old nickname. He loved that no matter what they were talking about, who they became, Trent will always call him that. It didn’t matter to them that it came out of the first and only time Patrick had gotten into an altercation on the field. It was during their freshman year -- back when Patrick and Trent were roommates. The fight had been about some girl Patrick was seeing at the time, Stacey. It was the day he found out that she was also sleeping with the team’s catcher. Trent had come to the game for moral support and had been the first to actually get Patrick off the field.

Ever since that day, the nickname had stuck and Patrick had avoided any further missteps with the team by vowing to not date until after college. He needed to focus his energy on baseball and his degree. Despite having grown up with everything just handed to him, his mother had always insisted that he get an education so that he could earn his way in this life. He managed everything perfectly until he met Rachel. Trent knew as well as anyone just how messy things had always been between them.

“When I met Rachel she was the type of girl who would never speak to a model let alone be one. And yet, here we are. All she cares about is her public image even if it’s not true to who she is.” Patrick stood up and started pacing. 

“So, yeah. I’ve really started to think of ways that I can get out. You know I’ve had my doubts for quite some time now. I just can’t keep waking up and not even recognizing the person staring back at me in the mirror. I don’t even know my own life anymore.” 

“Tell you what. Why don’t you sleep on it and in the morning you and I can map out a game plan. You should at least finish out the season.” Trent placed his hand on Patrick’s shoulder and gave him a concerned friend’s gaze. “You can crash in the spare room.”

Patrick nodded and just as Trent left the front room he responded to the room at large. “I broke up with Rachel.”

Without even missing a beat or turning around, Trent replied: “What else is new?”

===

A few days later, Patrick was still crashing at Trent’s when his friend dropped an envelope next to him as he ate his morning cereal.

“What’s this?” Patrick looked up, confused.

“Just read it and then we can talk.” Trent was being evasive and Patrick didn’t like it.

Inside the envelope was a screener copy of the interview Rachel had done with People. Patrick read through it thinking Trent was needing his reaction and approval for its publication. However, what he didn’t expect to see was Rachel’s response to the very first question.

**_People:_ ** _ Where is Patrick? We figured you guys would be coming together. _

**_Rachel:_ ** _ My fiance, is training really hard for the upcoming playoffs. He had an early morning practice that he couldn’t get out of. You know how it is. _

Patrick was seeing red and fuming. She was supposed to publicly end their relationship. What the hell was that? Patrick clinched his fists and looked up at Trent.

“MY FIANCE?! What is she playing at? We are NOT engaged. They can’t publish this. It’s false, it’s slander.” Patrick ranted without even taking a breath.

“I know. I figured you weren’t considering you told me a few days ago that you broke up, and since you’ve been living here with me this past week. I’m going to call them and tell them point-blank that they have to pull the interview. Don’t worry. I’ve got this handled.” Trent tried his best to reassure Patrick, but when he looked up Patrick was already on his feet and pulling on a sweatshirt, “Where are you going?”

“To deal with the  _ source _ ,” Patrick muttered before stalking out of the apartment.

Patrick drove across town knowing with certainty that Rachel would still be at the apartment. It was before 9:30 which meant that she wouldn’t be nearly ready enough to make a public appearance. He knew he needed to dial back a bit on his anger, but this was definitely the final straw. She'd done many things he hadn't agreed with in the past, but he'd been willing to look past them. However, this was fucking up his life more than he needed right now.

"Rachel?" Patrick called out the minute he walked through the door.

"Babe! You're home!" Rachel came running and threw herself onto Patrick. "I knew you'd be back."

"I'm not here to get back together with you. I live here, it's my apartment." Patrick extracted himself from Rachel's grip. "I came here to talk to you about something."

"What? Is it about us? Do you want to get back together?" Rachel rambled on and Patrick used the moment to gather his thoughts.

"I'm not here to get back together with you. I meant it, the other night, I'm done." Patrick moved over to the far wall where his initial Blue Jays contract hung in a frame. "I'm here about the interview."

"Oh." Patrick could hear the drop in excitement in her voice.

"Fiance? Really Rachel, what fiance? We aren't engaged!" Patrick finally said what he came here to say and then he turned to look at her and wait for her response.

"I was helping your image! Everyone loves you because you're so wholesome. What's more wholesome than marriage to your college sweetheart?" Rachel was begging now, but Patrick was so angry at her he couldn't be bothered to care.

"THE TRUTH!" Patrick's anger finally exploded and he yelled in her face. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes, but again he couldn't be bothered to care. "This doesn't help me! Because now when I go to tell the truth I look like an asshole. You should've just done what I asked and told them there is no us anymore."

"What exactly is the truth, B? Besides there being no us. Why is there no us?" Rachel is thoroughly hurt now. Patrick wanted to backtrack and take away his anger from before. She hadn't deserved that level of mean from him.

"That I'm not cut out for this. This whole being on top one minute and at the bottom the next only to be back at the top before I can blink. It's exhausting. I played in 120 games last year. I eat, sleep, and breathe baseball. Maybe I want something more than that. Something better." Patrick responded softly.

"What's better than you and me?" Rachel stepped into Patrick's space again and lovingly placed her hands on his cheeks.

"Rachel, I'm gay." Patrick grabbed her hands and moved them away before he moved around her. "Wow that feels so good to say out loud."

"What?" Rachel screeched in anger and surprise, which Patrick didn't blame her for in the least. "How long?"

"How long what?" 

"How long have you known."

"Rach." Patrick sighed painfully.

"How long, Patrick?!" Rachel insisted and pressed.

"I didn't know what it was exactly, but I think I always knew deep down that I wasn't happy." Patrick admitted.

"Then why'd you date me at all?" Rachel is hurt and Patrick wished there was a way he could've told her without her getting upset.

"Because I thought the hurt and ache inside me would go away. I kept telling myself that it's just the baseball part of my life I wasn't happy with. That I wasn't trying hard enough to make it work with you. A part of me hoped that if I stuck with it diligently enough that I could will it away. But it never worked." Patrick was defeated. He'd revealed more of himself to Rachel than he ever had before and he was exhausted.

There is an awkward silence between them for a few minutes. Then Patrick took a deep breath and continued. "I messed up the last few games on purpose. I've been gunning for an injury to take me out of the game. I can't live like this, Rachel. I'm leaving Toronto at the end of the season."

"Who is he?" Rachel finally broke her silence.

"Excuse me?" Patrick is thoroughly confused.

"He must be some guy to throw away your career and leave Toronto for."

"There is no guy. I just need to get out of here. I need a change before I do something I can't take back or die. Both seem pretty inevitable right now."

"I'd do anything for you. I'd be anything for you." Rachel threw in a last ditch effort to get him back.

"I know and I can't live with that hanging over my head. You deserve better." Patrick sighed and moved toward the bedroom so that he could start to pack up some of his stuff. "You can have the apartment. The rent is paid for the next six months. It's the least I can do."

===

The next day, Patrick was finishing up a warm up before their game against the Royals when he looked up and saw Trent walking toward him. He lifted his arm up in a wave and smiled. He hoped this meant good news about the article.

"Hey, B. I have some bad news." Trent rubbed his forehead and sighed.

"Well, great. As if my life needed any more complications." Patrick pulled on Trent's arm to direct them away from the field. 

"I wasn't able to stop the article. They had already sent it to print. I'm sorry." Trent bit his bottom lip and refused to look at Patrick.

"Ok." Patrick swung his arms around and looked everywhere but at Trent as he decided his next move. "Then we need to do two things. I need to make a public statement where I come out in response to her comment. Also, we need to find a way for me to break my contract."

"Are you sure? Patrick if you finish out the season you could just step back and not renew." Trent placed his hand on Patrick's shoulder.

"Once I come out it's going to make everything harder. Besides, I just, I need out. I can't breathe." Patrick pleaded with his friend.

"Ok. I'll set up a press conference where we announce both. I think I can get your doctor to sign off on a shoulder injury that sidelines you the rest of the season." Trent pulled out his phone and started a call right away. "Just in case favor that arm and milk it a bit so the team sees there is a problem." 

"That won't be hard. I didn't ice it today." Patrick clapped Trent on the shoulder and headed back over to the field.

Patrick did struggle a bit throughout the game with his right shoulder, it twinging a bit every time he went to throw a ball. However, it wasn't so bad he couldn't play a great game. In fact, this game ended up being the best one he'd played in months.

They made it to the ninth inning before there were any major complications. Then a hit toward center field had Patrick diving to catch the ball. He caught the ball but not without landing hard on his shoulder. He felt a pull and then the worst pain he'd ever felt shot through him. He rolled his face into the grass and cried out in pain.

The tears spilled out of his eyes and he gritted his teeth as the team doctor assessed him right there on the field. He couldn't even move his arm without another shot of pain. The pain is so intense he can barely make out the words being said above him.

"I can't be sure without further testing but I'd guess he tore something." The doctor reported to his coach as he gently helped Patrick sit up.

Patrick allowed the doctor and his fellow outfielder help him gingerly to his feet. He closed his eyes against the pain and took slow steady breaths.

"What do his prospects look like?" His coach's voice is filled with trepidation, but Patrick knew he was just protecting an investment.

"I can't be sure yet, but if he has torn something he could be out for months of rehab. Worst case scenario he won't ever play again. But I'm not giving absolutes until I get him further assessed. So, excuse me."

===

The next few hours are spent in a flurry of tests, scans, and pain. The doctors aren't giving Patrick anything for his pain because they need it to determine just what is bothering him. Just as his mother comes rushing into his private room, her face filled with worry, the doctor comes back with a somber look on his face.

Patrick knew it was bad news and if he hadn't been in so much pain he would've really had to temper back on his excitement at the prospect. Even as the pain meds finally sink in, he concentrates more on his reaction than the actual words being spoken to him.

"As you know, Patrick we ran some tests. What we found was you've managed to tear your rotator cuff this time." The doctor addressed him with a tone that begged forgiveness.

"Ok." Patrick replied simply, he felt going the dejected and distant route would help him hide his true feelings on the matter much better.

"How long of a recovery period are we looking at doctor? As you know he needs his arm to play baseball." Patrick's mom interjected. He was grateful that she was so protective of him. He also knew how proud of him she was.

The thought of disappointing her made him cry. The tears escaped his eyes before he could stop them.

"Don't worry, just a few months of rehab and he'll be fine." The doctor quickly reassured them both.

Marcy suddenly turned to face him. Her look of relief turned to concern the minute her gaze landed on the tear tracks down his cheeks. He steeled himself for the onslaught of misguided sympathy she was about to throw at him.

"Paddy, hun. You heard the doctor it's just a few months of rehab. Nothing to fuss about. You'll be as good as new before you know it!"

The doctor chose that moment to take his leave. He stated he would be back later to discuss options. Patrick kind of wished he wasn't leaving him alone to try and calm down his mother.

"You'll be back to fighting shape just in time for next season! It's gonna be your year, I just know it babe." His mother's voice continued to reassure him as she straightened his covers and such around him.

"Mom," Patrick broke the silence on his end. He needed to tell her everything and it was better he do it now than wait and have her possibly see the interview with Rachel. Just as he is about to continue his father comes into the room.

Patrick threw his head back against his pillow. He needed all the strength he could muster for what he was about to say. He hears his mother repeat the doctor's words to his father and he has to put a stop to it.

"Mom," Patrick started again. "Just stop. We need to talk." 

"Paddy, you heard the doctor. This is no big deal. There's no need to sound dejected." His mother was back at his side and reaching out to brush his cheek with her hand. 

Patrick flinched away from her touch. "Maybe I don't want to go back next season." His voice came out barely above a whisper.

"You wanna run that by us again son?" Clint spoke up, his tone hard to read.

Patrick felt more tears slip out and he took a ragged breath. "I can't do it anymore. I can't breathe."

"You need me to call a nurse? What's wrong?" Marcy flew into protective mode and was about to hit the call button when Patrick stopped her.

"No, mom. I mean this life. Baseball, the fame, Rachel, my public image. It's all suffocating. It's not me. I can't breathe." Patrick sighed and looked up at the ceiling instead of his parents.

"Well, if Rachel is making you feel not right then you can walk away. She may not be the one for you. There are other women in the world, baby." Marcy resumed her gentle brushing of his skin with her hand.

"And as for baseball, take this time to recover and see how you feel then. I don't want you rushing into this. It's a big decision, son." Clint interjected with his two-cents. 

"I'm not rushing this. The decision to leave baseball is something I've been contemplating off and on for years now." 

"Well, if you're not sure about it then you clearly need to think more before officially walking away." Clint responded. Patrick knew he meant well but he'd become very irritated at his father for not truly listening to him.

"I've been gunning for an injury since the season opener." Patrick admitted softly. He let his words sink in for a little bit longer before dropping the next bomb.

"And it wasn't working with Rachel because I'm gay."

===

David was sitting with Stevie in her apartment watching some sports channel on TV. David wasn't paying any attention to it, in fact he was trying desperately to get his best friend to pay less attention to it and more attention to him.

"I just worry that my business plan isn't going to be enough for the council to accept my proposal for the lease on the general store." David whined dramatically plopping himself across Stevie's bed.

"Why don't you just use your name to get what you want? It's annoying enough that your dad is the mayor. You might as well get something out of the deal." Stevie turned from the TV and gave her friend a calculated look.

"But I want to do this on my own. Without the help of Johnny Rose. I want everyone in town to see my store and know my dad had nothing to do with that." David continued to whine from his spot on the bed.

David had always lived in Schitt's Creek and as far back as he can remember his father had been the town mayor. Everyone loved him and respected him. Far more than their cousin Roland Schitt who had been the original successor planned for the mayoral role. Then, Johnny had gone to business school and had come back to town with all these ideas to keep the town on the map. 

When Johnny met Moira Silver from Elm Glen, everyone knew Johnny wasn't going to take his ideas and leave town. So ultimately the townspeople voted to have Johnny Rose be their mayor over Roland Schitt. It remained a point of contention to this day. 

David and Alexis had been raised Schitt's Creek royalty. Which was all fine and good for Alexis who pursued a career in brand marketing for various businesses in the county. However, the pressure to be something put David on a path of shame and disappointment. He currently helped Stevie clean up around the motel, but that was not his ideal.

He really wanted this lease to the general store so that he could open up his own shop, but he hated that he would never be able to earn it on merit alone. No one in this town truly believed in him they just believed in his family name. 

"Okay, who's being naive here? There is no way that anything you do in this town would ever be seen that way." Stevie shrugged and pulled David out of his thoughts.

David sighed dramatically before turning his attention to the TV screen finally. He could see a table covered in a pristine royal blue cover and the logo of a bird on a seal covering the front. It looked very serious and official, what with all the lighting and the microphone sitting alone in the middle of the table. Then a young, soft faced man walked out. One of his arms is in a sling that is cushioned to his chest and looks to be strapped down as well. It looked serious.

"What exactly are we watching?" David finally asked the room at large.

"Hush. Patrick Brewer star outfielder for the Blue Jays is about to make an announcement. I bet it's to confirm his engagement that was announced in People magazine and touch base about his injury." Stevie said, her voice in breathless awe of the man onscreen. 

Sure, David could see he was handsome, but beyond that he didn't see the appeal. 

_ Patrick Brewer of the Toronto Blue Jays is here with us today to make an official statement. The mic is all yours Mr. Brewer. _

_ "Thank you. I want to thank all of you for coming out today. I don't want to take up too much of your time so I'll make this quick.  _

_ "First and foremost I want to dispel any engagement rumors brought on by my now ex-girlfriend Rachel Truman. She did what she thought would best protect me but, it was unnecessary because I wish to come clean. I'm gay. I never meant to hurt anyone, least of all Rachel. Which is why I decided to come out now. It only seemed fair to her, so she wouldn't have to keep pretending. _

_ "Next, I wish to address my injury and how it affects my future as a ball player. I have torn my rotator cuff which will put me out for the rest of the season. However, I do not at this time have plans to renew my contract come the new season. I wish to leave the game while I still have full function of my limbs.  _

_ "I want to thank everyone who has given me this opportunity over the past six years to play the game I love. Without their dedication and faith in me I wouldn't have made it this far…" _

Stevie suddenly turned the TV off which took David by surprise.

"I thought you wanted to see that?" He gestured toward the now darkened screen.

"All he had left to say was the usual press junket crap. Thanking his coaches and his parents, the organization, blah blah blah." Stevie rolled her eyes and walked over to the fridge and grabbed her whiskey off the top.

"Wanna drink Rose?" 

David got up eagerly with a fervent nod.

  
  



	2. when you see it all at first

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick arrives in Schitt's Creek and immediately meets David and Stevie. He realizes that this young man intrigues him on a level that he's never experienced before. 
> 
> What is Patrick going to do about it? Featuring: Twyla Sands and Ray Butani!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit rough to hash out. Characters weren't co-operating and my brain wasn't either. I finally got things figured out and I am super happy about this addition. I think I set up David and Patrick pretty well.
> 
> I tried my best to keep Ray as close to character as possible, but he is a hard one to crack. So if anything feels out of character, my apologies. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Patrick leaned on the side of the car. He stretched his neck a bit to try and dissipate the pain caused by the biting of his sling. His shoulder was in more pain than it had been lately, but he barely felt it because today was the beginning. Patrick was finally starting his life -- the life that he wanted for himself.

His mother fussed a little bit longer with the bags in his trunk and back seat of his car. He didn’t stop her because he knew she needed this to feel better, more secure, about his decision. Marcy probably blamed herself for what he was doing, but Patrick didn’t want her to go down that road again.

“Ma. Please, can you look at me?” Patrick pushed himself off of the car and rounded on his mother by the back door. He reached out and placed his good hand on her shoulder to turn her around.

“Paddy, did I do something wrong?” Marcy’s words come out broken and wet with the tears streaming down her face.

“No. Look at me. It’s because you are the greatest mom anyone could ask for that I am able to do this. You always encouraged me and gave me everything I could possibly need. You taught me that money wasn’t the answer to life. That having it was only useful if you made good out of it.” Patrick wrapped his mother into a one-armed hug, “I’m not making good out of my money, but I’m hoping to start. I need my life to have meaning.”

“I just worry about you being all alone with your shoulder like that. And what about your physical therapy? I could send Caroline with you to help you get settled and we could send Dr. Rosen your way once you’ve found a place to lay your head.” Marcy wrung her hands and pulled out of her son’s embrace.

“Ma. Please. I don’t need Caroline. I know how to cook and clean and manage finances all on my own. As for my PT, I’ll find a doctor wherever I end up. Besides, I’m not going alone. Trent is driving with me and then he will fly back in a couple of weeks.” Patrick motioned toward Trent who had been hanging back by Clint at the front doors to the Brewer Estate. 

“What about your apartment here?”

“Already taken care of. I paid for the next six months and let Rachel remain there, it’s as much her apartment now as it used to be mine.” Patrick gave his mom a look filled with reassurance and comfort.

“You’re really serious about this. I thought you loved Toronto.” Marcy whispered, her gaze now accepting and filled with love.

“I do, but I need to move away or risk becoming a person I never want to be. It’s gonna be great, just you wait.” Patrick kissed his mom on the cheek and motioned to Trent to join him in the car.

“Bye Dad! I’ll call when I get settled! I love you guys!” Patrick called out the open window as he put his car in reverse and drove down the drive.

If a tear formed in the corner of his eye as he drove away from the only life he’d ever known, Patrick ignored it. He didn’t want this to become a whole ordeal. He was doing what he needed to be his full self. Trent was coming with him not only for moral support but also because Patrick had asked him to. Patrick wanted to do one last road trip with his best friend. Who knew what was on the horizon for them. The road spread out like a clean slate with no map to guide.

After driving for an hour with nothing but the songs on the radio to break the silence between them, Trent spoke up.

“So, do you have any idea where you want to settle? Or are we just going to keep driving until you run out of gas?” Trent asked with a huge knowing grin on his face. Patrick knew that his answer was already known, Trent just wanted him to say it out loud.

“We will drive wherever my gut takes us. I need a feeling to guide me, T.” Patrick grinned and chuckled as he leaned over and turned up the music.

Patrick immediately started to jam to the song being played -- Tom Sawyer by Rush. Patrick was all in. He kept looking over at his friend trying to coax him into singing but Trent smiled and waved him off. 

_ And what you say about his company _

_ Is what you say about society _

_ Catch the witness _

_ Catch the wit _

_ Catch the spirit  _

_ Catch the spit _

_ The world is, the world is _

_ Love and life are deep _

_ Maybe as his eyes are wide _

_ Exit the warrior _

_ Today’s Tom Sawyer _

_ He gets high on you _

_ And the energy you trade _

_ He gets right on to _

_ The friction of the day _

As the last notes rang out, Trent leaned over and shut off the radio. Patrick stared questioningly at his friend. He didn’t like what that meant. Trent only required total silence in conversations when they were discussing something serious. 

“I need you to be honest with me Turbo -- completely honest. No public persona bullshit.” Trent bit his lip hard and waited a beat for Patrick to respond. 

“I am. You’re one of the few people I can trust myself to be honest with.” Patrick affirmed, nervously drumming his one hand on the steering wheel.

“Did you create this injury on purpose?” Trent let the words just hang in the air in front of him, no apology for insensitivity -- nothing.

“Jesus, T! I wasn’t that desperate!” Patrick exclaimed, taking his eyes off the road long enough to stare at his best friend, surprised.

“Weren’t you though? You told me you had to get out or you would die.” Trent shrugged his shoulder and let his head drop. He was clearly upset that his friend may be in serious danger to himself.

“Fffff Trent! It was a figure of speech. Haven’t you ever felt like you were trapped and unable to breathe? That’s how my life was for me. Every press junket, every photo opportunity, every post-game interview. It was all running together and I felt more and more of who Patrick Brewer is slipping away.”

An awkward silence fell between the two while Patrick came down a bit from his rant and Trent processed what was said.

“Am I happy the injury happened so I wouldn’t have to lie to quit? Yes. Would I willingly subject myself to months and months of pain and rehab just to escape? No. I may never regain full mobility in my arm, T. You know how scary that is? It will affect my everyday life.” Patrick concluded softly, hoping his words reassured his friend enough.

“Once you get where you’re going what is your plan?” Trent changed the subject.

“I was hoping to work doing something business-related while I finished my MBA online. If I really want to get back to the heart of who I am that is the best place to start. I gave up on my business aspirations for baseball.” 

“This could be really good for you. I’m in your corner no matter what you decide.” Trent patted his friend on the shoulder, “Though you don’t really have to work with all the money you have.”

“That’s not the point. I don’t want my money. If I could still survive I’d get rid of every last penny of it.” Patrick sighed. He turned the car off of an exit so that they could stop and get something to eat. It was nearing early afternoon and he needed food and a good stretch of his legs.

They came to a small town’s sign and Patrick almost veered off the road at the sight of it. 

**Welcome to Schitt’s Creek** !

Under the words on the sign, Patrick saw a painting of a man standing behind a woman leaned over to grab water from a creek. Patrick snorted and gestured to make Trent witness the sign as well. 

“Well dude, we definitely have to stop here.” Trent managed in between laughter.

Within minutes the two reached the town's center. Patrick looked around and smiled at what was clearly the antithesis of Toronto. This town had definitely seen better days. It could probably only boast a handful of "successful" businesses. And by successful he means open. 

He had seen a rundown motel on the outskirts of town as they'd driven in. It looked as though it had never seen a full capacity day -- ever. In the center of town, there was a cafe, a garage, a town hall, a business front that offered many options, and a general store that was going out of business. To anyone else, it would seem the last place on Earth they'd want to end up. For Patrick it was perfect.

Out of the corner of his eye, Patrick saw Trent shudder.

"This is quaint," Trent stated apprehensively. His disdain is obvious in his demeanor.

Patrick smiled despite himself, "I love it."

As they pulled up outside of Cafe Tropical, the town's only restaurant, Patrick made a decision. This is the exact change of scene he was looking for. Something in his gut told him he was meant to be here.

"Let's eat. I'm starving!" Trent's voice broke through Patrick's silent contemplation. 

Patrick smiled and followed his best friend into the quaint little restaurant. They are immediately greeted by a sweet, aloof young woman wearing a floral top and her hair in a tight ponytail. She smiled at them and motioned them to sit wherever they wanted.

Patrick pointed to an empty booth furthest from the door, which put them somewhere in the middle. There were only two booths further back and both were occupied. An elderly couple was in the furthest one and two young individuals were in the one directly behind Trent’s head. Patrick sat across from Trent, with his back to the door.

They were just getting settled when the young woman who had greeted them came over and handed them the largest menus Patrick had ever seen. He glanced up at her to thank her and noticed her name tag.

“Thank you, Twyla. Is there anything you would suggest?” Patrick smiled and waited for her response to open up his menu.

“Well, I would suggest the wings but with your arm, that might get too messy.” Twyla grinned but her eyes were sad. 

“Yeah, probably not a good idea.” Patrick laughed.

“Was it tragic?” Twyla asked, all mystified.

“I’m sorry?” Patrick was very confused by the turn of events.

“Your arm. Was the accident tragic? My cousin mangled his arm in a tractor once but it’s ok because he got a replacement one. Anyways that’s not why his wife left him so don’t feel sorry for him.” Twyla explained quickly. Her face went from concentrated to gentle happiness within the span of her statement. 

Patrick didn’t know how to respond. Twyla’s answer had left him even more confused. “Umm. I won’t?”

Once he’d cleared his head a bit more he realized that he hadn’t answered her question. “No, it wasn’t tragic. Just an average work injury.” 

Then Patrick dropped his head to stare at the menu. After a few moments, Twyla walked away to give them time to decide on what they wanted to order. Patrick smiled to himself. Sure, the waitress was weird and yet she still managed to hold on to a type of charm that not many people have. There was an innocence about her that was either troubling or inspiring -- Patrick couldn’t quite decide. So instead he focused on the sandwich portion of the menu.

“She is really weird. I say we order quickly, eat quickly, and keep moving on down the road to another town.” Trent muttered from behind his menu. 

Even without looking at his best friend, Patrick knew that Trent was scowling and shifting to avoid the uncomfortable feeling of being still for a lengthy period of time. 

“Wasn’t the deal we would go wherever I wanted?” Patrick folded his menu back up and stared down his friend. 

“Well, yes but -” Trent started before Patrick raised his good hand and cut him off.

“I like it here,” Patrick said simply before looking beyond Trent and staring at the young woman in the next booth back. She was having an animated conversation with the young man across from her. 

Patrick zoned out Trent’s response and instead focused on what she was saying. He was intrigued but swore he wouldn’t listen for longer than a minute out of fear of being creepy. He didn’t have to try too hard because the young woman was clearly becoming exasperated with her companion and had raised her voice an octave. 

“David! I don’t know why you don’t just try. The General Store is up for  _ anyone _ to lease. You qualify under  _ anyone _ .” She gave her friend a pointed look, which Patrick hoped he’d never be on the receiving end of -- it was scary.

“I’m not just  _ anyone _ as you put it, Stevie. I’m the mayor’s son. I would probably get the lease without even having a plan. I don’t want to apply because I want to find a way I can  _ earn _ it before I do it.” The one called David began throwing his hands around emphatically as he spoke. The cadence of his voice mesmerized Patrick to the point of the world falling away and it being just him and the faceless stranger. 

“Earth to Patrick Brewer!” Trent finally reached out and grabbed his hand to get his attention. “You still with me dude?”

Patrick shook his head and came back down to earth. He noticed his friend staring at him with a quirked eyebrow and a concerned look on his face. Then he noticed that Twyla had returned and was also looking at him strangely.

“I know. The air here just lends itself to daydreaming. Isn’t it wonderful?” Twyla asked breathily. 

Patrick shook his head again to clear the residual feelings for “David” that he’d already felt. “Huh? Oh yeah. It’s great.”

“I couldn’t tell from  _ all _ the options, but do you guys have salmon?” Trent managed to badmouth the menus with utter disdain while still remaining jovial and fake nice. Patrick kicked him under the table.

“We do have salmon, but only when Nate can catch some and drive them here. So, unfortunately, we are out today. Check back tomorrow, he may arrive then.” Twyla missed Trent’s slight entirely.

“Oh well, then I guess I’ll have the cobb salad but hold the eggs -- I’m allergic.” Trent sighed and really laid on thick that he felt he was making a sacrifice. 

“I’ll take the club sandwich. Hold the tomato. Thank you, Twyla.” Patrick gave Trent a pointed look before smiling up at Twyla.

Twyla smiled back at the two of them before bouncing off back to the counter and handed their orders to the kitchen. Patrick was just about to turn and chastise his friend when they were interrupted once more. He looked up and saw the young woman from the booth behind them. Standing next to her was the most beautiful human he had ever seen in his life. The man had a sharp jaw and eyes to match. The set of his face showed as plain as day he was angry or dismissive about something. Patrick couldn’t look away if he tried. The young man -- David he remembered -- was wearing what appeared to be an extremely soft black sweater that had random holes throughout. It would have appeared ragged if Patrick hadn’t seen that exact sweater on one of the models at Rachel’s fashion show two years back. 

“Can we help you?” Trent finally broke the silence and pulled Patrick out of his thoughts. 

“Sorry. Umm. Yes. Hi. So, you’re Patrick Brewer of the Toronto Blue Jays.” the young woman whispered excitedly, leaning closer to Patrick as if this whole conversation were a secret. 

“Formerly.” Trent corrected her. Patrick looked at his friend once again in shock. What was his deal today? Usually, Trent was the picture of kindness and sincerity. However, today he was snarky and rude and quite frankly acting pretentious. 

“Yes. I am Patrick Brewer. Here, why don’t you join us!” Patrick smiled and slid over to give room for one of them to sit next to him. 

The young woman immediately sat down and excitedly said, “I’m Stevie! I love the Blue Jays. I’m a big fan.” 

“It’s true. She is. I don’t understand the point of people playing with little balls. I mean I do from a  _ totally  _ different context but…” David responded and then his brain seemed to catch up and he blushed and immediately went silent. 

David delicately slid into the booth next to Trent. The two eyed each other up and down and decided the best course of action was to ignore one another. Patrick found himself even more intrigued by this man. His blush had made him ten times more attractive than initially and that was way more attractive than Patrick was used to. Being attracted to a male, in theory, had always made sense but, now that he was experiencing it first hand it was really throwing him for a loop. 

“I was so bummed when I saw you dive for that ball and then you didn’t get up. It sucks that the season is over for you. Are you really not returning next season?” Stevie’s excited questions brought Patrick back to the present once more and he focused his attention on the safer subject.

“No, I’m not. I decided it’s time for me to walk away. It’s not what I want anymore. I don’t find joy in it.” Patrick looked at his hand and bit the inside of his cheek.

“I wish I knew a passion like that. I work at the front desk of our town’s motel. There is no passion for that job unless you are the mayor.” Stevie rolled her eyes and stared pointedly at David.

“Why would the mayor like the motel?” Patrick was very confused and felt like he missed something.

“The mayor -- my  _ father _ \-- is also part owner of the motel,” David stated, boredly looking at his cuticles.

“Oh,” Patrick replied simply. He thought he should add more but just then Twyla returned with their meals.

“Oh, Stevie! David! Are you guys trying to trick me into thinking you hadn’t eaten and then going to order again under assumed names?” Twyla spouted off quickly.

Patrick’s automatic response was to release a chuckle. He covered it with a cough before Twyla noticed, but it was clear that Stevie and David hadn’t missed it.

“No, Twy. We merely wandered over to this table because Stevie has a hard-on for baseketball players and wanted to talk to Peter.” David snarkily motioned between Patrick and Stevie. 

Apparently this sort of tone must be normal for David because neither Twyla nor Stevie batted an eye.

“It’s baseball and my name is Patrick.” Patrick gently corrected David and flashed him his winning smile when the raven-haired man looked at him in response.

“Whatever.” David scoffed, clearly not interested or impressed by Patrick.

“Enjoy your meal.” Twyla cheerily directed at Patrick before turning her attention to David. “Oh, Gwen told me that you were thinking of going for the lease to the General Store. I must warn you that she also told me that Christmas World is offering to take the space.”

“Oh okay. Thank you, Twyla.” David responded. Patrick didn’t know this young man from Adam but he could already tell that the young man was dejected and worn down by this news. 

“Who the fuck is Gwen?” Trent chimed in for the first time in ages.

“She’s Bob’s wife. She really likes her friends on the internet and sometimes forgets that Bob is coming home and locks him out.” Twyla responded just as David and Stevie opened their mouths to speak.

“Don’t ask,” David smirked at Patrick just as Patrick was about to do just that.

“Bob runs the garage. However, don’t trust him with your car. Take that to Elmdale, you’re better off.” Stevie snorted at some thought she must’ve had.

“Stevie seems to forget that you guys have never been here before and therefore don’t know our rich history. So the short story is this. My father took the mayoral car to Bob for a fix. Bob claimed to have fixed it. My father was participating in the county parade the next day and his car died halfway through the parade route. Caused a whole scene. My Uncle Roland was pissed for at least three months because ‘my dad embarrassed this whole town.’ As if this town doesn’t embarrass itself just on principle.” David smiled animatedly throughout his speech, trying not to laugh at times. He unsuccessfully refrained from rolling his eyes and by the end, his words came out as nothing more than a mumble.

Patrick could tell that David was officially the most fascinating thing about this town. And the young man clearly hated being here. Patrick struggled to find something to add to the conversation in the vain attempt at keeping this stoic man smiling. His smile warmed up the whole room and made Patrick feel seen. He never wanted it to stop. But of course, Patrick opened his mouth and it broke the spell.

“To be honest, I saw the General Store when we drove in. It’s a sound investment.” Patrick grinned at David and then finally turned to his meal in front of him.

By turning his attention so quickly he failed to see the small amount of positive energy coming from David completely vanish in an instant. 

“Well, Mr. Brewer, it was great getting to meet you. I’ll let you get to your meal at hand. Enjoy the rest of your time here.” Stevie broke the silence that had fallen.

Patrick looked up again, but David was already at the door impatiently waiting on Stevie. 

“I plan on sticking around for a while. Who knows, I may run into you at the motel.” Patrick put his hand out to shake Stevie’s in good-bye.

Patrick watched the two young adults until they moved out of sight down the road. He had never before been so immediately drawn to another human like he was to David. He wanted so bad to help the young man get exactly what he dreamed of — the lease to the general store.

"I know what I'm going to do now." Patrick turned back to Trent excitedly.

"Oh?" Trent raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And what exactly is that Mr. Baseball?"

"Well, I told you I wanted to find a job in business while I worked on my MBA online, right?" Patrick was vibrating with excitement.

"Yes." Trent still wasn't sure where his friend was going with this.

"What if I see about a job here? And then I offer up business advice to David and help him get the lease to the General Store." Patrick couldn't stop smiling. He knew he had a good idea.

"Whoa. Slow down there Turbo. David? The guy who just left? The one who sneered at us the whole time? You want to help him?" Trent moved through his reaction slowly, he was trying to process as he spoke.

"Yeah, it'll be great."

"Why? Of all the town's you could've settled on you chose this one. And then you pick the one rude person in this town and you decide that's the guy you want to work with. Can I ask you something?" Trent placed his hand on top of Patrick's on the table. 

"Sure." Patrick still hadn't lost his smile. It was the first time in years he actually felt excited about something.

"Did your injury somehow fuck up your brain?" Trent gave his friend a very concerned look.

"No. This is the clearest my mind has been in a long time." Patrick replied with unwavering confidence.

"You don't know this guy from Adam and you want to just throw all of your money at him to help him?" Trent stated around a bite of his food.

"I never said I'd throw my money at him. I did mention my skills being used though." Patrick was a bit put off by Trent's reaction. He had hoped his friend would be willing to help.

"Pardon the interruption, but I heard one of you is looking for a job." Twyla was once again suddenly at their side.

"Yes. I am looking to make roots here and find a job." Patrick turned and smiled at Twyla.

"Well, Ray Butani is hiring. He runs many businesses and was complaining just this morning that he has a hard time keeping their financial information straight." Twyla stated as she wrote a name and phone number down on the back of their ticket. "His office is just down the road, near the park."

"Thank you so much, Twyla. You've been a great help today." Patrick smiled and pulled out his wallet. He took out a bill and placed it on the table. "Just keep the change. Have a nice day."

Then he motioned for Trent to follow him and they both left the cafe. Patrick pulled out his keys and stopped just short of his car. He thought it over. He really wanted to talk to this Ray guy about getting a job. He also wanted to approach him and ask how he should go about accomplishing what he really wants to do. He looked at his keys for a second longer before he glanced up and called out to his friend.

"Hey, Trent!" The young man looked at Patrick with a very skeptical look on his face, but Patrick knew he'd still be willing to help him do whatever.

"I'm going to go talk to that Ray guy about a job. You can go for a drive or just sit in the car. Whatever you want to do." Then Patrick tossed Trent his keys and turned toward the direction of Ray's office. 

Patrick found the walk to be calming in a way that he hadn’t felt since he was a small child going on bike rides and hikes with his mother and father. The trees and homes along his walk are exactly the kind of vibe he is looking for in his post-fame life. He wants a place where there are front gardens and the neighbors know each other; a place to call home. This little town of Schitt’s Creek may be just the saving grace he needed in his life. 

Ray’s office is a small little number right on the street within a clear view of the small patch of grass with a bench across the street that Twyla had called a park. Patrick smiled and shook his head at the notion that this small town thought that spot was a park. Hopefully, this town had a bigger park somewhere else or at least some hiking trails. Patrick needed the chance to run or stay active in some way without the constant routine of baseball training. 

He walked up to the front door and had to bite back a laugh when he realized the sign over the door said “Entrepreneur at Large.” He was very curious about what that meant. Twyla had mentioned he owned a few businesses, but how many were a few? Patrick heard the bell over the door jingle as he stepped into what is clearly just a living room area redone to look like the front lobby of small office space. The walls are lined with brochures and flyers for all the sights in Schitt’s Creek as well as the different businesses Ray offered. While Patrick waited for Ray to appear he looked and counted up his enterprises. There was a closet organization service, a kitchen remodeling service (that he apparently does with a person named Ronnie), travel agency, business licenses and other start-up activities, real estate, and his biggest advertisement was for photography.

Patrick could already tell from his ads that this Ray fellow was going to be a quick friend. Patrick had already decided he would take a job if Ray offered him one by the time Ray rounded the corner and greeted him.

The little man had a big personality and it exuded out of him the moment he caught Patrick’s eye.

“Hello! I’ve not seen you before, and I know all of my customers. Are you here for travel, photography, or maybe my newest offer -- closet organization? That one’s a big hit with the younger clientele.” Ray’s smile shone brighter than the lamp in his front lobby and it covered his face from ear to ear.

“Uhh. No.” Patrick stammered, thrown off a bit by Ray’s exuberance. “Twyla actually mentioned something about maybe finding a job here?” 

“Ahhh, Twyla! Lovely girl! She is my model for my business card option in my photography business! Would you like to see?” Ray started to move toward what was probably his desk, but Patrick stopped him.

“No, that’s okay. I am sure they are great. I just really need to nail down a job sooner rather than later. I just moved here today.” Patrick tried to be gentle with his request, he felt maybe Ray was the type to offend easily.

“Wow! Today! And you came here! I am so glad! How are you with business and numbers? I have so many businesses that I am always running, but not enough time to record the books properly.” Ray’s eyes lit up even more at Patrick’s words, and Patrick knew right then this was the best decision of his life.

“Oh yes. I was hoping to get a job doing accounting while I work on my MBA. I enrolled in online courses last week. So, I wanted to find a job where I could practice what I already know and expand as I learned.” Patrick gave Ray his photo-finish smile and hoped for the best.

That smile must have triggered something because all of a sudden Ray was bouncing on the balls of his feet before he launched himself back into the back of the building once more. Patrick stood there thoroughly confused. He wasn’t sure if he should leave or stay when Ray returned with a folder in his hand. Ray excitedly motioned for Patrick to follow him over to his desk.

Once there Ray grabbed the folder and spread out its contents onto the empty space. Patrick looked down and saw his face on a well taken care of rookie baseball card. Surrounding that card were printout rosters from various games and other pictures of him that he had never seen.

“I used to go to all your home games with my father,” Ray said simply, his tone was the gentlest it had been since Patrick had arrived. “This was the last game I went to. You guys were up against the Phillies for a spot in the playoffs. That was the happiest day of my father’s life.”

Patrick thought back to when it was that they had faced the Phillies for a playoff spot. That game was from three years ago. Patrick looked at Ray -- who was glancing at the photos with such reverence and care -- he knew without the shadow of a doubt that Ray would do anything to help Patrick reach his end goal.

“That was three years ago. Why haven’t you been to a game since?” Patrick was genuinely interested. This dark-skinned man full of laughter and life was suddenly quiet and that intrigued Patrick most of all.

“My father died from cancer a few months after that game. I couldn’t bring myself to go without him after that. He would always tell me, ‘son there are men who practice the game and men who know the game. Brewer  _ knows _ the game.’ So, yes Mr. Brewer I will hire you. Because if you put as much effort into accounting as you do baseball I know that you will be a great asset to me.” Ray clapped his hand onto Patrick’s good shoulder and smiled wide.

Ray gathered up the folder of items and set them aside and then pulled out the proper paperwork for hiring a new employee and started Patrick out on that. Patrick spent the next hour filling out forms and giving Ray his references -- even though Ray insisted he didn’t need them.

“Ray I have to feel like you are actually vetting me for the job, not just giving it to me.” 

Ray stopped protesting at that point and decided to dial up the references while Patrick finished the rest of the paperwork. Once that was done, Ray shook his hand and told him he could start the following day. Patrick smiled. His chest felt lighter already, knowing that he was starting his new life in the best way possible -- honestly. 

“Hey, Ray. Could I ask one more small favor of you?” Patrick spoke up just before walking out the front door. He decided it was now or never on throwing caution to the wind.

“Depends on what that favor is. But I can try.” Ray’s words were hopeful but not naively so.

“So, I heard that the General Store is up for leasing. Is there any way that I could simply buy it instead of applying for a lease? I figured you would know since you are the town’s real estate broker.” Patrick shrugged and tried to appear as innocent as possible.

“Well, ideally the owner of the property would prefer to sell but, there just isn’t anyone in the area with that kind of capital so they’ve settled for a leasing agreement.” Ray pulled up the listing on his computer and excitedly motioned Patrick over. “As you can see it’s a simple open floor concept with enough space for storage. The asking price for the property is a good price at $200,000. The utilities usually run about average. I just gave you a job. Are you planning on leaving already?” 

“How much would the lease be if it doesn’t get sold?” Patrick leaned forward to get a better look at the stock photos attached to the listing.

“It usually runs about $900 a month,” Ray answered, his energy was drumming with excitement and Patrick knew he needed to give Ray an insight into what he had planned.

“Okay. So Ray. I have a plan, but I need it to stay under wraps for a few more days until all of it can be carried out. Can you do that?” Patrick gave Ray his most stern look. 

“Of course. I am part of the city council so I am sworn to secrecy about a number of things.” Ray had his lips sucked in and he was teaming with joy at the prospect of this plan.

“I want to purchase the property for $300,000. Then I want to sign a lease for the place with the Mayor’s son, David. Only David. I won’t let anyone else take over the store. Finally, I will ask for $800 a month in rent from him but the money never comes back to me; it automatically goes into the town treasury. I want the town to benefit from this transaction.” Patrick finishes confidently and from the look on Ray’s face, he knows that he has already won the man over.

“Everyone in town doesn’t believe David could do anything good with the space -- he’s been talking about inhabiting it for months now. However, I believe in passion as life’s motivator so I think he could really make something of it.” Ray nodded his approval at Patrick’s choice in a tenant.

“I agree. He’s got fire and heart which will get you most anything you fight for in life.”

“Will we be telling David that you are the person who bought the property or are we making him believe that he won the bid he submitted?” Ray asked and Patrick realized he needed to take pause.

“I think we should tell him. You should call him in here to discuss it, but I will be the one to talk with him.” Patrick finalized.

“He’s not going to like it,” Ray warned Patrick.

“But will he accept it?” Patrick replied.

“That is up to chance.” Ray smiled apologetically. “I will help you no matter what, just know that you might be doing all this for nothing.”

Patrick found that he didn’t care if David would reject his offer. The money meant nothing to him so if he bought this store and it sat empty for a time he didn’t mind. Patrick also knew that he could be very influential if he tried, so he might be able to convince David in the end. Either way, his plan was now in motion and he finally felt like his life was starting to begin. He could be anyone he wanted to be in this town -- anyone.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> As always I love feedback of any kind. It fuels my fire and reminds me that I really should continue doing this for you lovely people as well as for myself.


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